Stan the Masochist 2!
by Sleepingkit
Summary: Stan is going through some new strange emotions. He desires to get beaten up on, treated like a dog. He gets pleasure from feeling pain and humiliation, and needs a girl to give it to him. He finds appeasement in his lovely big sister Shelly. A sequel to 'Stan the Masochist'. This is an one-sided romance.
1. Chapter 1

_A.N: Here it is, you guys asked for it! A continuation of Stan the Masochist. Hope you enjoy! Warning, this story contains an one-sided romance, couple:Marshcest(Stan and Shelly). Also may be known as 'Stelly' or 'Shan'.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Ever get that feeling...**

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Things changed when I turned 10 years old. Everything became crap and shit. All of it, even the stuff that used to make me happy, went to the ruins. My friends had ditched me for a while, I had been a party killer and messed up _their_ fun time, when I was suffering. Of course I kept a firm grudge against them for a good 2 weeks, until I felt satisfied. My dad and mom had a fight, separated, and got together again. And all of those horrible movies kept premiering, sickening; I couldn't understand how my friends can watch them with such ease.

Except after about half of month of me being 10, everything went back to normal. Cartman is still the fat-ass, Kyle is still my best friend, Kenny is still...well Kenny is just there, who 'speaks' now and then. And me, Stan Marsh, is still the kid who likes to help. Saving the animals, banishing bullying, and giving people awareness about the boredom of zip-lining. At least, that's what I had thought.

Something else, also changed when I became ten. For the life of me I can't put my finger on it. Besides the minor acne and being a bit taller. It's kinda been bugging me lately. I've been having the urge to suddenly be humiliated in public. Or imagining someone slapping my face. I'll wake up, and bam! That's the first thing I want in the morning. At the kitchen table, I thought of my own mom accidentally spilling coffee on my pants. When playing basketball, I wanted Kenny to freaking trip me, so I could hit the ground. All of this...highly excited me for some reason. Not the normal excitement, but a thrilling excitement. But I don't give a damn about that right now, who cares? I got a life and I'll live it goddamnit. So screw it.

"Hey guys," I greeted, walking up to my friends next to the bus stop.

"Hey dude." Kyle smiled, which ticked me. Why was he so _nice_? "Why are you frowning?"

I must have been showing what I was feeling at the moment. "Er, nothing." I couldn't even explain why what I was feeling. All the redhead did was smile, nothing wrong.

"Tch, he's pissed that you didn't give him head last night." Cartman snorted. "That's why. Isn't that right, Horny Stanley?"

I didn't say anything, my heart skipped a bit at being insulted.

"Shut the fuck up, Cartman!" Kyle shouted. "That's not true."

"Oh, you're right." The fat boy smirked. "Stan rather him giving _you_ head, instead the other way around. He's more of a sucker, the bottom man."

Before Kyle could yell back, I giggled. They all stared at me.

That, was an absolute mistake. Boys do not giggle. They _chuckle_. The only exception for a man to giggle, is when something perverted occurs. That includes women. The kind of giggle I made, was a creepy, high-pitched noise followed by a blush on my cheeks. The mere idea of Kyle pulling my hair too hard, I would be screaming from pain in enjoyment. I would have to obey his orders and give him what he wants.

No, even better. A girl could pull my hair, smacking me around like I'm lower than her. A girl is more suitable, they're weak and cute. A strong boy like me, getting _dominated_ by a chick, that would just be-

"Hehehehe." I giggled again, into my hand.

"Stan?" Kyle quirked a brow worried, "you okay?"

"N-nothing!" I flustered, quickly ashamed for what I had fantasized. That was forbidden, males are always on top! Why should a boy like me, want to get slapped at? No, I'm fine. Perfectly fine.

It's not like I want to go to the locker room, have my clothes stolen so I could run around the school naked; having everyone see me. They could all laugh and point at me, a giant embarrassment. Take photos if they want! Crap that just made me excited, and it's expressing itself in my pants.

"Shit.." I murmured, pinching the bridge of my nose.

When the school bus finally arrived, I rushed up the steps and got into my seat. Praying no one would sit by me. Although of course that could never happen, Kyle sat right next to me concerned. Why is he so caring? Damn why won't he just ignore me, treat me like dirt! Treat me like I mean nothing, stomp on me with spike boots, grab a baseball bat and wack it at me! Spit on me because I'm worthless. _Tell_ me I'm worthless. Curse me out like I'm a bitch!

"Stan," he began as the bus started up, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing." I diverted my eyes to the window. Maybe I could stop these thoughts by paying attention to the houses passing by, then what's raging under my belt. Hopefully he doesn't notice.

My friend didn't believe me. "Look, I know things haven't been peachy between us, but we're okay now right? You can tell me what's wrong."

Stop it. Quit it! That's just what's wrong with you, Kyle. You're so generous and kind. The most considerate guy around. Gotta problem? Talk to Kyle, he's your man. He'll listen to you whine all night.

Cartman's so lucky. Kyle swears at him, fight him, and loathes him. I scorned, I thought he was my best friend. Shouldn't he yell at me? The Broflovski should let me be his enemy! I'll do a better job than Cartman.

"I think you hate me." He mumbled, I turned and saw a sad face. Not fair, _I_ should be the one with the sad face damn it. A girl should make cry, right now! Make me cry till my eyes dry up and bleed. Then squeeze my throat till I'm choking out for water.

"Tch, I don't hate you!" I rolled my eyes. "I just..."

"Just what?"

"It doesn't matter, you won't understand it dude." I switched my attention back to the window. Oh look, a bird.

"Don't give me that!" I blinked, was that...anger in his voice? "I hate it when people say, 'it doesn't matter', when it plain does!"

I'm pretty sure Kyle is yelling at me.

"So will you," he grabbed my shoulders harshly, "tell me already! I might understand!"

Staring stupidly at his frustrated eyes, I bit my lip. I have to hold it in. He was really pushing it. Kyle's nails dug into my shoulders, and his raised voice demanding me to confess, is simply too much. If only if he was girl.

"Well, say something!" Kyle ordered, shaking my shoulders roughly.

"I can't tell you." I groaned embarrassed, quivering thrilled from the pain. I willed my body to wiggle out of his hold.

"But I want to help." He sighed. I stared at him, taking pity.

"Fine, I'll tell you but not today." The bus stopped, and we arrived at school. Finally, maybe I can clear my thoughts.

However, I seriously need to find a chick who would agree to hurting me. And find out what the hell is wrong with me.

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_Wonder who that chick could be? Please review!  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: My Diagnoses**

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Things couldn't have gone worse. I had to attend to my hard-on in the bathroom, causing me to be an hour late for class. Not to mention I had to muffle my moans, since _other_ kids were passing through and using the toilets. There just had to be so many boys with small bladders, right when I needed the privacy. Except I grew even more excited, a bit thrilled. While I had tended to my problem, I was silently encouraging for someone to hear me. Or even do that old trick where you go in the stall next to a person, and climb on the toilet to peer inside that said stall(we've all did it before). I had went as far as to _unlock_ my door. Making it easier for someone to discover me.

That suspense had clawed at my heart, my breathing had became quicker. With every footstep that had passed my stall, I had to muffle a noise into my hand. The idea-the _humiliation_-of a guy hearing me, then opening the door, only to see me sitting there shamelessly pumping. The dude's face would contort in disgust, then of course he'd take that chance to exploit me (oh, how the word 'exploit' makes me quiver; for some reason). He'd call his buddies over, I would still be masturbating thrilled, and let them see me. Hell, at the time I wouldn't have cared. His buddies would pull out his cell, snapping a few good pictures of me and send them to every girl in the school. I had squirmed, fantasizing that, and came.

When I had came out of the stall and to the mirror(I had to wait till everyone was out the bathroom), I saw how flushed my cheeks were. I had been panting and part of my black hair that fell on my face, clung to my forehead from the sweat. My bottom lip, red and swollen from biting down hard; to keep my moans inaudible. Apparently, I had torn a bit of the skin. I had licked the blood from my mouth, washed my hands vigorously and dusted myself off.

It wasn't right, jerking off to being embarrassed or being hurt. What the hell was up with me? When I had arrived to class, Mr. Garrison wasn't easy on me. He had me stand in front of the class(facing them), and explain why I was late. I avoided my gaze from Kyle's, I knew he had been staring worriedly at me. Kenny hadn't give a damn, and Cartman had been laughing at my punishment. I had been shifting on my feet, blushing; thinking of a million unbelievable excuses for my tardiness. I had guessed maybe I could have lied and said I got lost in the halls. But I've came to this school for years, these hallways are a second home. Then a kid helped me out by saying, _"I saw Stan run in the bathroom!"_.

Wonderful. Now everyone had thought I took a major dump.

Even better, I skipped out on my recess for I can be in computer lab. I was going to search up my, what I considered, rare condition. Besides, Google knows everything right? Therefore I typed my symptoms. Gaining pleasure from embarrassment, pain, recurring fantasies, and frustration from getting treated nicely. Nearly every link had _'Masochist'_, or _'Masochism', _in them. What was that? I've never seen those words before.

"Stan whatcha doing?"

I jumped. "AH!" Turning around, I saw my ever dearing friend Kyle. I stuttered a, 'nothing', to him and a tried to hide the computer screen.

The redhead gave me a look and pulled up a chair to sit in. "I'm not going anywhere Stan."

Why, why does he have to be stubbornly considerate?

"You're not out in recess."

"Maybe I don't feel like going out?" I mumbled. Kyle pointed his gaze towards my hands, which blocked the screen.

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

"Stan," he rolled his eyes, groaning. Something inside of me wanted to irritate him more.

"Just go back outside." I pleaded. "I'm fine, perfectly fine."

I assumed Kyle has had enough, because he abruptly snatched my arms away from the screen. His green eyes quickly scanned everything what was on there, before I had the chance to click on to another tab.

"Masochism?"

"It's not what it-uhm-I..uh.."

Kyle clicked back, then had the nerve to click on one of the links. Out loud he read,

"_Masochism: t__he deriving of sexual gratification, or the tendency to derive sexual gratification, from being physically or emotionally abused_."

To me he said,

"The hell, Stan?"

"I don't know!" I blushed hard, frantically finding the mouse to get off the page. "I don't know! I've just been having these issues okay, I can handle them-"

"Hold on..." Kyle's voice softened, he stole the mouse from me again and clicked to another link. I watched as he silently read more about me.

"It's probably not true anyways...maybe it's just part of puberty.." I muttered, having the urge to giggle from this embarrassment; having my best friend see my private matters.

"So. You like getting abused, uh?" Kyle asked lowly, after a while. But the way he questioned it, the disdain that underlined it, I felt like I was being prodded at. Almost rejected.

I quivered from hearing, 'abused'. Another word that excites me.

"I-I guess. I'm not sure.."

He was quiet, his orbs fixed onto me with blankness. "You're. Not. _Sure_?"

"Tch, w-who said I was looking this up for myself?" I countered, I chose that moment to be indignant. "You're being very nosy."

Bad decision. Kyle stood from his chair, grasped my shoulders and slung me against the wall. His green eyes darkened, and in spite of us being the same height, I felt shorter. He looked down at me, face unreadable. Kyle stomped on my foot, I bit my lip to not yell. He dug his nails in my arms like he did on the bus, then threw me against another wall.

"You certainly seem to be enjoying this.." He whispered near my ear.

Indeed, I was. My cheeks flamed and my brows furrowed anticipating for more pain. I imagined if a girl could do all of this to me, it would be perfect.

Kyle let go of me, and stepped back. "Are you sure, _now_?"

"Uhm, y-yes.." I mumbled.

"Well?"

"I'm...I must be a masochist.."

Kyle turned away, as if in repulse.

"That...Stan. That's just wrong."

"How do you think I feel about this?" I asked. "I know it's wrong! I can't help it, I love it!"

He winced when I confessed that I love it. Looking back at me, he inhaled and exhaled.

"Fine. I don't approve of this, but you're my friend." Kyle rubbed his temples. "How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you felt this way?"

"Well I-"

The bell rung, recess was over. Kyle grabbed his book bag, which I hadn't noticed before.

"We could talk about this at my house. Good?"

"Good." I nodded, still feeling the pain in my foot and shoulders. I wish he would have done more, to prove his point.


	3. Chapter 3

_A.N: Sorry for the long wait, guys!  
_

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**Chapter Three: Sadism  
**

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Kyle so _kindly_ had promised not to tell Cartman or Kenny about me. Assisting that it's too private,(in spite of him finding out from being nosy). Just like any true best friend would. _Always _considering my feelings, as any caring person would. but he did the wrong damn thing! Oh he knew, he knew how much I would LOVE to be exploited about my masochism. Especially Cartman's fat-ass. He would had made sure every kid and faculty member in the school would know about me, under 5 minutes. All those not so appealed eyes would be staring at me.

Hell, what if I'm not the only one; what if there's a masochistic girl in our class? She'll know we're the same. Ugh then we could give each other pain, it'll be so _hot_! The bullies would call us different, shove us together in the janitor's closet. She'd snatch the broom and whack my ass with it until I'm burning red. I'd take those rubber gloves and whip it against her so she could hit me harder.

Was that too far? I think not, but when I blabbed to Kyle about my wonderful idea he slapped me up against the head.

Then when I had smirked and giggled stupidly, he slightly flushed, glared and muttered angrily that he hadn't purposely tried to turn me on.

Then I saw my crush, Wendy, walking her way up through the hallway. Everyone believes she some arrogant, preppy cheerleader who thinks she owns the place. They just don't know her true self; deep down I know she must be the most gentlest bird ever. With her flowing long black hair, brilliant violet eyes, and pink lips. That sexy switch her hips does, when striding her way past me. Not to mention that I can tell puberty is hitting her, since her breast buds are kicking in.

Back to what I was saying Wendy, the girl of my dreams, was strolling by me. Along with her clique.

"H-Hey Wen!" I called out to her, butterflies forming in my stomach like usual. She stuck up her nose at me, hands on hips and came closer.

"Like, who do you think you are?" My eyes was focused on her moving lips. My manhood was focused on her tone. "Like, you don't know me enough to shorten my beautiful name, Wendy, to 'Wen'!"

Yes, scold me more. Teach me my place! "I-I'm sorry."

"Psh you like, better be nerd!" With a roll of eyes, a quick joke about me to her clique, and a snap of her fingers, she went on walking.

"This is why you're a pussy Stan." Cartman snorted. I forgotten everyone else was there, in my aroused moment. "You let a snobby chick talk to you like she has the balls."

"Girls have balls." Kenny muffled through the hood.

"No they don't!" Cartman argued.

As they had their disagreement, I realized Kyle was giving me a face.

"What?"

He only shook his head and mouthed, "wait till we get to my house."

* * *

Arriving to his bedroom, the redhead immediately went to his laptop. Loading everything up in a matter of seconds. I shifted on my feet awkwardly by the doorway.

"C'mon, you've been here before." Kyle said, fingers flying on the keys. "I brought you here so we can discuss your...thing."

"Is that what you want to call it?" I chuckled, plopping next to him. "So what did you wanted to say in the hallway, that had to wait till we came here?"

Kyle glanced towards me. "I've always wondered why you would fall for a girl like Wendy.."

"And?"

"It makes sense now."

I tilted my head to the side. "Tell me already, dude."

"Wendy's," Kyle sighed, "the type of person who talks down to people. She makes people feel like crap."

I had to processed this. "That's not right. I like her because she's nice, gorgeous, smart-"

"You like her because she's_ haughty_ and the way she _bullies_ you."

"She doesn't bully me!"

"Stan, Wendy said you were a nerd. What is that?"

I could have answered pleasure, happiness, a gift, an honor; Although all of those were clearly the wrong replies. I mean my crush had dominated me in a verbal way! Even if she just insulted me, and talked down to me, it was exhilarating. Then again, Kyle does have a point. Maybe she is actually a mean girl who only I find attractive.

"So..you're saying I love getting bullied?" I asked.

"Tch, you are a masochist right." He grunted, disdaining the word. "Here, Stan. What I searched up says you can get therapy for this."

"Wh-what?" I exclaimed a bit offended,"nothing is wrong with me!"

"Eh..."

"Ah, man I'm not a freak!"

Kyle gave me half lidded eyes and deadpanned, "you'd get a boner right now if I slap you."

I blushed and nearly giggled, though I controlled myself. "Well, then I should just find a stress reliever."

"You serious?" My friend chuckled. "A _stress reliever _for getting horny?" He paused. "Are you going to start masturbating like crazy? Buying sex toys and crap?"

"N-noway! I was thinking of a girl."

"What kind of girl would like giving you pain?"

"I don't know, search it!" I laid on my back, arm over my eyes. I heard the tap of the keys as he typed.

"_Sadism is the derivation of pleasure as a result of inflicting pain or watching pain inflicted on others._" Kyle groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Mother of God.."

"Sadism...sadistic? Then I need a sadistic girl!" I smiled. "She'll love giving me pain, and I'll love getting the pain!"

"My God..."

"This is perfect!"

"How can this be..."

"Dude."

"What? I'm shocked, okay! I didn't know people who were like this, were out there."

"Me neither." I sat upright. "I'm pretty sure Wendy's sadistic. You think she'd go for me?"

Kyle's expression told me not so much. "I don't agree. Wendy's not sadistic, she's a bitch. Anyways she'd never date you."

"Then who else likes putting people in misery?" I exasperated.

"We'll figure that out later." He shut his laptop, biting his lip which he only does when he has to do something he doesn't. "Stan..."

"Yeah?"

The redhead gulped. "I want to test you out..."

* * *

_Whoa! Weird hang-cliffer _


	4. Chapter 4

_A.N: Finally got this out.  
_

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**Chapter Four: Examination  
**

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"T-test me out?" Those thrilling words quivered their way out between my lips. Kyle rolled his eyes and avoided my excited gaze.

"Tch, don't get so happy." He frowned with guilt. "I just want to see how...erm...easily aroused you get from pain."

"You're going to hurt me?" I hoped for it.

Kyle ignored it. "We have to control your emotions somehow. At one point you're going to have to feel pain, and _not_ like it."

"That'll be hard..." I mumbled, fiddling my fingers still thrilled. My best friend might bring me to tears willingly! I'm the luckiest kid in the world! I'll get the best pleasure in my life in the next few moments! "Hehehehe!"

"QUIT GIGGLING!" Kyle was scorning, disgusted by my blushing giddy face. I put my hands between my legs and looked away a bit abashed. Maybe something was wrong with me.

The redhead leaned towards me, glaring sharply into my eyes. Intimidated, my heart pounded hard. He then slapped me.

No, the dude _backhanded _me! "K-Kyle." I gasped, touching my stinging cheek. His glaring eyes flickered with distaste as he yanked my wrist, I yelped. He grabbed the nearest pencil and stabbed it into my arm. "Ahh..ahhh!" He dug it in, twisting it as I blushed harder.

"...Calm down." Kyle mumbled angrily, piercing the pencil in my thigh next. "You're not suppose to enjoy this.."

"Ah..!" I bit my lip. "But it feels so-"

"Bad. It feels so bad."

Actually, it felt hot. "It's d-difficult! You're b-being so rough-" My friend snatched my hair, squeezing hard.

"How does this feel?"

I only bit my lip, my face blushing. I'm getting too turned on right now, I shouldn't like what's happening. But the pencil being stab into my thigh and him yanking my hair, oh the abuse is killing me!

"I want more!" I cried without thinking about it. Kyle's scorn deepen as he pulled harsher on my hair, slamming my face onto the bed. He then pushed down on my head so my nose and mouth was suffocated by the blanket. I was moaning into it.

"Are you enjoying this?" I hear him exclaim as he choked me. I could only squirm trying to breathe air, all in pleasure. Kyle yanked my hair again, putting my face in front of his. He was pissed. "You get horny too easily." With that he slapped me again.

"Kyle." I whimpered overly pleased.

He released my hair and rolled his eyes. "You need to practice controlling your masochism!"

I flushed and nodded. I just moaned to my best friend hurting me, what is with me? This is awful and horrible; we have crossed the buddy boundary and most of it is my fault! We may never be the same anymore. Oh crap, crappity crap crap! I violated one of the bro rules! Kyle must hate me. Although he did ask for it, what did he expect from abusing me? Of course I was going to be aroused! The way he backhanded me, ugh domination was all in that. Then he stabbed me with a pencil(I wish it was a cigarette bud instead). Kyle even slapped me a second time!

I looked at his face and it was painted with disdain. He was forcing his green orbs onto me, I knew he didn't want to look at me after what I have done.

"S-sorry." I said.

"Sorry because I'm a bit disgusted, or sorry because you regretted liking what I did to you?" He asked smartly. When I didn't answer he ordered, "say it!"

I gulped from his slight bossiness. Such _dominance_ that I'm_ obeying_ to. "Erm, I'm sorry that y-you're disgusted. I loved everything that you did to me, and I don't regret it."

Silence.

Maybe I should wait for his reply. I have to be patient and let the redhead collect his thoughts and decide on what he should say. But this is too tensing, what if Kyle's angry? He might not forgive me and never speak to me again! I have to stay calm, don't panic.

I panicked. "Ky-"

"Stanley." _Fuck._ My whole name."I'm going to have to accept what you are..."

"Uh?"

Kyle shrugged and sighed. "Just don't become a perverted freak, alright?"

I laughed. "I think I already am." He punched my arm playfully. My reaction was a mewl and shiver.

My friend's eyebrow twitched. "Remind me to not hit you..."

"Hehe, only if I remember."

* * *

"Stan, where were you?" My mom questioned as soon as I put my foot in the door. "It's been an hour and 12 minutes since school ended!" Wonderful, she kept track.

"I was over Kyle's house-"

"Kyle?" She chirped. "The Broflovski's oldest son? Oh that's fabulous! You two are getting along again. What fun things him and you did?"

Well mother if you must know, Kyle had turned me the hell on and gave me a boner that I had to hide while walking back home. That's one of the fun things we did. Oh, and we also searched up things about me being a masochism, and discovered sadism. "We talked and played games."

"That's sweet! I have to tell Randy," she went off into the kitchen supposedly where my stupid dad was. I chuckled and shook my head.

Walking up the stairs and into my room, I plopped down onto the bed trying to relax. I need someone to pleasure me and relieve me of this strange urge for pain. But who? Fire crotch is right, Wendy will never date me. And I'm pretty sure everyone else in my grade is still too young to do this kind of thing. So WHO can help me?

"STAN MARSH!"

_Oh no. That voice._

"WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, I SWEAR I'LL RIP YOUR THROAT OUT!"

_Oh yes! That threat._

"GRAH!" My door was burst open. And there she was.

My savior.

* * *

_Woot woot! His savior has arrived!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A.N: Yay, I think hopefully I didn't take too long this time.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Five: Some sisterly love  
**

* * *

She stood there like a beast. Heaving with pure rage. Breathing through her teeth harshly like a bull, only emphasizing the braces' noises even more. Spit flying. Her hands were flexing, finally balling up in fists. Her long brown seemed to frizzle out with her anger. Matching light brown eyes darkened glared their way into my pounding heart. Her chest raised with fury and she looked about ready to explode.

My sister, one and only, Shelly Marsh.

While I anticipated for what to come, I recalled that Shelly had went away for some time at the hospital to control ever hot temper. She left right about the time I first began experiencing the new masochistic emotions. No wonder.

If you do not know, Shelly Marsh always beat the _crap_ out of me. Throwing me down the stairs into the basement, slinging me through the windows, slamming a chair against my back, even ducking my head into the toilet once. My friends said that it was shameful for a vagina to dominate the penis. At the time, I used to be extremely afraid and embarrassed of getting punched around by her even though she's a douche. However, I'm a changed man now! My hands on the sides of me, clutched the sheets of my bed.

"You grotesque SNOT!" Oh, what a greeting. Though suddenly, her voice became sweet as sugar. "You missed me, didn't you baby brother?"

I gulped before answering. "O-of course."

"I missed you too. Miss knockin' some sense into you!" She quietly shut the door when obviously she wanted to slam it. Except our parents would hear the loud wham. I licked my lips, my own chest rising in want.

"I come home from an insufferable five months at that hell bucket of an institution, and what do I find?" She was creeping closer, each step ensuring pain that I'll be glad to take.

"Wh-what did you find?"

"It's what I DIDN'T find!" She boomed, spit flying more when she said 'didn't'. "I went into the kitchen for my expected Hershey bar. And guess what?" Shelly reached me, leaning in my face whispering sinisterly. "They. Weren't. There."

I had to ask. "What does that have to do with me?" She clutched my throat with one hand, my breath caught excitedly. The boner I already had from Kyle, grew more.

"Don't you remember your words! As I was being taken away captive in the ambulance, _you_ said when I return you'll have a Hershy's chocolate waiting for me!"

_Oh yeah..._

"You turd! I will kill you!" Shelly lifted me by the throat to slam me up against the wall. My cheeks were red and I'd giggle if my oxygen wasn't cut off. "I'll rip your eyes right from their sockets and feed them to the dog!" Yes please. That'll be lovely. Claw them with your bare nails.

My older sister(those words sent a shiver down my spine. Especially the word, _'older'_) punched me in the jaw repeatedly. I was loving it, living it. Even better she shot a hit in my stomach. My head dropped from the impact, hair falling over my face. After another jab she let go of my throat. I fell on my hands and knees coughing for sweet air. Now this is how I should be treated. This is awesome!

The abuse was all too exhilarating and it wasn't over yet. She seized a hand full of my hair, arching my neck back to look up at her. Drool was on my mouth, eyes glazed over.

"Gosh you're easy to push around." Giving my a pleasurable jerk and a thrilling twist of my neck, she threw me away. Stomping my back as I curled up attempting to hide my erection. I was becoming harder with each pound. I didn't even try to disguise my moans. I allowed them to be projected as loud as they came. Long and low, to short and gasps. More, I wanted more!

Sadly as I was getting wet, mom came in.

"Shelly! Get away from your brother!" She had her arm in a flash, dragging the girl who was giving my ecstasy away. I could have cried right there.

"But mom!"

"No buts! We thought we were done with this problem of yours! Doctor Gates confirmed that you had improved on your attitude!" Glancing at me, mom's face was apologetic. "We'll talk about this later,"

When they finally left I ran to the door and locked it. I wasted no time to unzip my pants and massage myself in a quick eager pace. Laying on the bed, masturbating and staring up at the ceiling I moaned again. But then a horrifying realization processed it's way in my mind.

I was jerking off to my sister.

No, wait a darn second. I was jerking off to a _girl_ going sadistic ape on me. And she did it with as much pleasure as I was feeling.

Right when I was peaking my cellphone took that chance to ring. And like a retard I answered it. Whoever called me, their greeting was a beautiful orgasm. My cheeks were flushed as I panted happily into the phone.

"..._Stan_..." FUCK. Kyle. His voice was seething.

"N-dude!" I panicked, getting a tissue from the nightstand to clean up my mess. "Sorry! I'm stupid and I didn't know and I-"

"Argh never mind.." I can easily tell he wanted to forget the sound. "So you went straight home to slap your meat...from me?"

"N-no! Shelly beat the daylights out of me." I giggled. "She showed me who was boss and it was-"

"I don't want to know the details." Kyle interrupted immediately. "Shelly you say? She's back from the hospital I see. Wait! Stan! That's it. She'd be perfect to relieve your 'stress'. As you call it."

I smiled."I know right."

"The only problem is, that she's your sister."

"But-"

"No buts." Great, now I feel like Shelly and he's mom. "That's incest dude. Combined with your new reputation, that's _masochistic incest._"

"You say it likes it's the worst kind of them all." I rolled my eyes. "There are other more pervier stuff than-"

A knock came at the door. "Stan? I'm ready to talk with you."

"Gotta go Kyle, I'll call you later K?"

A sigh came through the phone. I pictured my friend pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright dude, just don't become too freaky." With that, he clicked off. How to end a conversation.

"Come in mom."

* * *

_Awesome. Kyle needs to loosen up._


	6. Chapter 6

_A.N: Man I suck. I am horrible. Please scold me, yell at me, rant at me, for this unforgivable lateness. You might hate me, but I'm going to update in shorter chapters so I may be able to satisfy the time I publish! But I will do my usual 1000 words or over if I have that thrill.  
_

* * *

**Chapter Six: And 'The Talk' begins..  
**

* * *

My mom stepped in as I had put my phone away. She dusted her hands on her pants; I can only imagined what those said hands did to Shelly for punishment. Except sadly my parents do not whoop us, only groundings. Would that not be lovely though? If a belt was brought upon my bare ass because I broke a special vase. Or maybe I had went somewhere I wasn't suppose to be at. Things would be so easier in my life. But oh, no time for that now.

She took a spot next to me on the bed, sighing. "Stanley I am so sorry you had to come home to that. I should have made sure Shelly was...stabled before she went and said hello to you."

Pfft my sister did more than give me a hello. "It's okay, it's fine." I smiled. Mom shook her head and sighed again.

"No it is not fine. I fear Shelly will never be able to control her anger without releasing it out on you."

I can totally live with that. I am _her_ stress reliever for frustration, she is _my_ stress reliever for pleasure. Ugh such a beautiful bond between sister and brother, you'd agree right? I blushed to myself. "Won't she just grow out of it?"

"The doctors' say that will be a slight chance." Mom chuckled, "they say she could just be sadistic! Oh but you don't know what that is, I'm glad for your innocence." As she ruffled my hair I gulped. I'm no where near innocent mommy.

"Oh, haha." Forced a little laugh. The middle aged woman gave me a worried look. Great, another person who just _has_ to be concerned for my well being. Sheesh give it a rest already!

"Stan as a mother, I've been noticing some changes in you..."

Oh gosh. Please. "W-what kind of changes?"

She shrugged and glanced away for a moment. "At the dinner table you're always dazed out, as if in deep thought."

Yeah I'm musing about getting slapped around. What else is there to think about at the dinner table when surrounded by your family members and food?

"I just have a lot on my mind right now." Which is very true. Hard whips to my back, suffocation in my throat, tasers to my sides, bruises, oh they're all so fantastic and intense for someone's everyday life!

"Not only that Stan. Just last night while were eating, you stabbed the fork into your hand."

"R-really?" Damnit, I was too deep into my daydream.

"Yes. And it didn't seem like at all you were hurt. You were actually turning red and drooling."

"THAT DOESN'T MEAN SHIT!" Crap I dropped the ball...I dropped the freaking ball!

"I think I understand now,"

No, no you don't! Please don't!

"My little boy is..."

Say it all ready, please! Your little boy is a nasty masochist!

"..growing up to be a big man."

I stared at her, shocked and unmoving. W-what? My mom gave me a wide smile.

"Now we can talk about puberty!"

Gulp.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter seven: The talk**

* * *

"P-puberty?" I had spluttered slightly. Heart still pounding hard from the anticipation of her finding out about my masochism, I panted and tried gaining my breath again. What the hell was she thinking? I mean, yay she doesn't know what is really going on, but I don't exactly think this is an improved turn out. Truly my mother had more sense than this? _Puberty_? I mean alright I guess that is something you'd easily presume, but far off from the actual issue! Mom for once in my life I am disappointed in you. There I had said it. However I should be relieved to not be forced in conversing about my masochism, my own mother should have the capability of telling what's troubling her own son!

I nearly wanted to tell her the truth when she presented a warm smile and gaze, assuring, "Oh Stan, you do not have to be embarrassed!"

"Sorry. Kinda awkward.." Just go on with the lie.

"You're on your way to adulthood," Mom looked so proud, with her head tilted and that damn sweet motherly smile-CRAP JUST SLAP ME ALREADY! "Now, lets get started. Are you prepared for the Talk now son?"

Oh no...she's getting serious. This is not good, tell her the truth! I am not ready! I am still a little boy who needs his blanky and a nightlight! I need to be spanked when naughty! I need to be punched and slammed to the wall when I step out of my place!...is that a bulge in my pants?

"Y-yeah, I'm ready mommy-mom!" I'll scream mommy to you all night long if you make a leather belt have contact with my bare ass. Hmm, from that thought perhaps Kyle was right about me becoming insane and gross.

"This may seem scary-" you don't even know half of it, "-but everything will be alright! I'll inform Randy about this too."

"PLEASE! DON'T!" I stood, frantic.

She merely waved her hands off, "come now, he'll be just fine. Now down to business. You will have hair in places you've never had, and you may have some weird hot images flashing through your mind."

"When you say weird and h-hot..."

"Anything. I know my little boy is like is father, big boobs are what you want right? Again don't worry I'm comfortable with it."

"Err...s-sure.."

"Haha you're so flustered. It's so cute!"

"SHARON! I CAN'T FIND THE REMOTE!" Speak of the devil. Thanks for saving me dad.

She sighed, "I'll be back, stay right here." With that she walked out.


	8. Chapter 8

_A.N: yell at me all you want, I deserve it. I'm back in business and I mean it this time.  
_

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**Chapter eight: What Now?  
**

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I stood instantly, pacing the perimeter of my room with great intensity. I never thought my feet could be on fire! Okay Stanley boy, let's recap on what just went down. Your mother, sweet sweet mother, is paralyzed in the state of you being an innocent young boy hitting puberty. If only it could just be that. What's more, you remember those caring warm eyes that you were nearly crying on her shoulder confessing of how much of a dirty dirty freak freak boy you are. Hehe.._yes I'm a dirty boy..please clean me_. No, no I'm better than that! Focus on other things..maybe the soft thumps of my parents' footsteps downstairs and their voices. I could imagine my father's mortified face at the 'knowledge' of his son's growth. What if I can't handle it? What will I do?

Just like that a ray of hope shined through my window. It cast a light that could penetrate my worried soul with comfort. Approaching and glancing outside, I spotted the neighborhood children playing and the birds chirping. The sky was as blue as it ever had been. I bet if I cracked the window I'd receive a nice breeze across my goose-bumped skin. It's so simple, I can runaway! A flawless plan. Hell I'll mimic Huckleberry Finn, reading is fundamental. I'll fake my own death. I might even force Token to travel with me for good measure. I'll be around no one who'd judge me, no one to discover my horrid problem(wait it's not a problem..it's part of me, is all). Best thing about running away I won't have to face my father's rage, his disappointment. I'll be a hobo, an attractive homeless boy!

I know it must seem I'm overreacting, being dramatic. Golly how you are wrong. Let me tell you about my father Randy Marsh. This is a man who still wears race car boxers, owns many obsessions, takes things very seriously, and is stubborn. I'm telling you the man is unyielding, but I'm not implying I don't admire him. I worship him actually even when he gets annoying. He parties too hard, drinks too hard, does anything to win-and he's still my dad I love. He only does what's best for me and considers me well, I can't say that for all the parents in South Park. Then why am I running away from such a good thing..oh yeah. He'll kick my ass.

My father is masculine to say the least, an understatement. Every time I participate in a sport you know who's the most enthusiastic about it? My dad. He's always standing on the bleachers somewhere-his butt never touches the seat-yelling down at me to play my hardest. Encouraging? Yes if it didn't involve profanity, his voice slurring from beer, and eventually a fight. Besides his inspiring cheers and shouts are violent, even the players are afraid at moments. I could only fancy what he would do if he sees through my act and in truth, understands that I'm masochistic. His only son is a pansy who prefers to be the 'bottom man' instead of topping! I'm the freaking girl in the relationship!

"I'm sorry daddy, I'm not strong! Please forgive me I'll do better!". I went on my knees removing my shirt, holding my hands in a prayer to no one in particular. I tossed the item off, "whip me and show me better! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

The door clicked. The ray of hope that once graced my floor was shadowed over by the height of a man, my dad. It was like all the birds ceased their singing and the sky darkened, the children seeking safety in their houses. I had no where to hide here knelt, shirtless and begging like a peasant. My wavering blue pools of eyes slithered their way up his stature. He returned with his brown orbs which were unmoving. It was a stand still, a match of wits! On the count of 3 we'll hold up out guns and shoot! It's inevitable that I will be the one going down, no siree my pops will be the one to succeed triumph.

I gulped and scrambled to my feet putting back on my shirt. He diverted his gaze rubbing the back of his head as he normally does in awkward situations; he cleared his throat. "Stan-"

"I CAN EXPLAIN!" I interrupted immediately. "It was hot, so very hot dad! I wanted to crack a window but you know how I hate bugs-so I took off my shirt! But then I dropped something-I dropped my pen and I-"

He grasped me by my shoulders and sat me gently on the bed. A silent signal of, shut the hell up. He pulled up a chair from my desk and ruffled my hair. "Let's forget about that right now and hunt down the task at hand, alright?" God I love him, I nodded. "Sharon tells me you've hit puberty?"

"Yes." I nodded firmly, calming down. Maybe he won't figure it out, just go along with it. My dad sniffled and brought me into a hug that I jolted into.

"I'm proud of you boy! From this point forward you will carry my balls with yours!" Wait what.."when I die I know they'll be a parade in my honor, but I want you to be the man of the house. For a second you had me scared, I thought Shelly would be the one taking up maintenance."

Haha, that does seem like an accurate guess for the future. "But dad, what If I'm not ready?"

"No. You will be." He said it with such positivity I might have believed it, his voice was stern. "You are a Marsh Stan, once you hit adulthood there's no going back. It's like dating black people your grandpa says. What I'm getting at is you have a lot of weight to carry on your back now. Sharon is hard to handle, trust me. You need to also learn to harden up against your sister. Sorry boy, but that's just embarrassing."

"I-I know it's embarrassing.." see? This disappointment written all across his face, I hate it! "I'll try better. It's just that well, these new thoughts inside my head make it difficult." Good Stan use the lie as an excuse.

"That's no excuse!" Damn. He gave me a firm look and shook his head. "Don't delve inside them and lose sight of what you need to do: beat the crap out of Shelly. Don't tell your mother we both know she'll disapprove, she's a woman she won't understand. When I'm free I can take you to the gym and we'll build that muscle that's already developing."

"That's all nice dad except I..I uhm.."

"Spit it out."

I cringed. I couldn't do anything but obey. "I can't wait." Dad brightened.

"Great!" I was awarded with a rough pat on the back. His eyes glanced at his wrist watch, "oo the game's coming back on. Hey Stan you should come watch."

"Yeah in a minute. I'm going to head into the shower." The water should help me mellow down. "I'll be there in a sec." He gave me another pat and left the room.

I sighed grabbing a change of clothing and went into the bathroom, tiptoeing quietly pass Shelly's room. After removing my articles and stepping into hot steam of the tub, I glanced down at myself. My body was an artwork of bruises and with a look at the mirror my face was no different. Dare I say it..but I was sort of proud of them..

* * *

"I know about it." Cartman sneered, having me cornered in the boy's room stall. His hefty body was pressed up against mines, the stench of chips still coated his breath. My heart pounded in hard beats which seemed to drum his stomach. "So what will it be Marshy boy, you joining in on my little plan or to be the next hot talk?"


End file.
